Foreign

23

I lock the loft sobbing uncontrollably as I slid onto the floor. I curl into myself, my knees up to my chest as I weep into my limbs.

I couldn't even feel the bruises on my feet from running back here from the mansion we were located in. I only had a had full of dollars to get me just a quarter mile back to the loft. To escape the nosy eyes of the people who watched me I ran all the way back.

I was crying hysterically. I felt disgusted, I felt hate for myself forming inside of me.

I wiped my hot face, taking in a long ragged breath. Tears still spilling my voice, I shakily stood up letting out another sob. I turned off all of the lights and climbed up the stairs. I laid down in my dress, I had kicked the heels off sometime ago.

"I bet, I bet you'll end up just like mom. Just like dad always says. A fucking slut." Andre spits in my face, I sob trying to wipe my face but I'm held down by my other brothers.

"Stop fucking moving!" Baron bellows at me frustratedly, repeatedly slapping me in the face. He always snaps first. Everything I do sets him off.

"You're a whore! We won't tolerate a dirty fucking slut sister!" My eldest brother Xavier yells, finally coming in. His foot flies into my stomach.

He bends down to me, his dirty nails sinking into my cheek. I whimper, hyperventilating. "Do you want to be treated like some tramp on the street, Havana? Want me to find someone to sell you to? Hand you out to some men?" He asked tauntingly.

I let out a hiccup, shaking my head. "N-no, Xavi. No." He smiled, tapping my cheek. He looked around and all my brothers started to laugh.

"Ten years old...and you had a boy come to the house." The third oldest said, Heath said. I held my tongue, not wanting to explain because I'd know they won't believe me.

"H-he...he followed me." I lied, I knew what me saying that meant. My brothers will hurt him. Hurt that sweet boy, he's the only one that will be nice to me.

They all looked at each other, Xavier grabbed me again roughly causing me to wheeze. "Are you lying?" He said, that crazy look in his eyes. I shook my head no, slowly.

"Alright then. If we find out you're lying, Havana Mia...you'll be locked in those chain, just over there."

"Havana." I rolled my head over to the sound of my name. I felt exhausted. I noticed my dress was off. Tears filled my eyes, I pushed my face into my pillow.

"Did y-you-" He rolled me over. He wiped my face, I closed my eyes tightly. The nightmares of my past still fresh. My present a new gash in my mind.

"Look at me." He demanded, his voice strong and unwavering. I shake my head, "Havana, open your eyes." I winced as I felt his hand cup the same cheek I just dreamed of. I opened them, looking into his forest eyes.

He looked my face over, clenching his jaw.

"Stand up." He rolled off of bed, taking me with him. I felt lost and confused, I felt like this was a dream. Like this shouldn't be happening. I wanted to put as much distance between Dante and myself but at the same time I wanted him as close as possible.

His hand wrapped around my waist, he put my left arm on his shoulder, and grabbed my right in his. I looked at him curiously, his pants and belt unbuckled. His button up open causing a curtain showing his skin.

The lights were dimmed and a song played.

"Put the dress back on." He tried to edge his voice to be as much as a nice question as he could but it came out his usual snapping demand. He grabbed the item, helping me inside of it.

He zipped me back up, his hands traveled back up to our original position. I kept my wondering gaze on him.

"I didn't want to waste my moneys worth. You danced with two other men, if I can remember...Sebastian Hutton and my good friend Mathis Delon." The last of his sentence had his chest rumbling. His hands slipped a little, his fingers digging into the satin dress and into my backside.

The sharp encounter made me gasp and push myself into him in hopes to lose the hand.

He smiled down at me, twirling me around expertly. "And it's a red dress." My lips pointed up and I tilted my head. No he couldn't remember. His eye dropped down into a smooth wink.

A secret. A secret that I might know. I let out a sigh as I heard the song that started to play. Dante laughed at my face, I leaned into him at the sound of it.

"What do you know about Stevie Wonder, Havana." He drawled out, doing an impressive ball room type performance. I giggled as he lifted me up.

He placed me back down effortlessly. "Much more than you think. My father would play him when I was younger and when we'd have to clean up the house. My mom found out it was my favorite from this album and she started to sing it to me from then on." I talked on about the happy memory. There was happy times in the family.

In the early times, when I was much younger. But apparently I could only remember the good when I was that young.

"When did that all stop?" He questioned letting me wrap myself around him. He took us on the bed, letting the song play behind us. We laid close, getting lost in each other's touch with out it being caused from sex.

He lifts his hand up, staring at me while I think. I smile at his large hand and press my own against it. The size different showing. Mine were at least two and a half inches smaller than his.

"So tiny." He whispered pulling his hand away so he can kiss my finger tips.

"I started to receive my own punishments. From my father and brothers, it started because I took my mother side and tried to help her when I caught my brothers and father hitting her. I was about five or six." I reminisce, looking back at the hands he pressed together again.

"She left you when you were nine...I-there was no records...your fathers apart of the FBI." He connected, he stared off for a second before looking back at my hand.

"Yes, she changed when I was eight. Sneaking out and telling me to not tell my father or brothers where she went. The next year, she divorced my father and got remarried almost in the same month. I was happy, ecstatic. I thought she was going to take me away in that fairy tale. But she left me. Without a kiss. She said,

Good luck. And left me with them. And they made sure I paid for her mistake." I curled into him. I laughed, pulling myself from the dark spiral. "It's okay. I got Jade in return, Anastasia, and just a little bit of you, right?" I moved my head up, his eyes looked into mine. His face stone.

I smiled, kissing his forehead. "I had one good brother." I told him, trying to put him at easy. "Nikolai. He had never put a finger on me. He loved me, but he never showed it. Until recently...but even now." I shrugged my shoulders.

"He didn't call me whore," I muttered sleepily. "H-he didn't slap me...or...even say I was nothing. He didn't..." Tears spilling on his chest as my eyes closed, forcing them out.

y'all hate Dante huh LMFAOOOO